


Dress Code

by a_big_apple



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-06
Updated: 2010-12-06
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:39:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7780177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_big_apple/pseuds/a_big_apple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for  fma_fic_contest  prompt 90: Turn a cliche on its head.   The new Fuhrer sends out a memo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress Code

The memo arrives on his desk just three days after the new Fuhrer takes office.    
  
General Mustang, still nursing his wounded pride after being passed over for the highest office in the nation, decides to pointedly ignore it.  He makes coffee, which has always been Hawkeye’s job, but it’s at least five minutes of time spent looking at things other than the offending packet of paper, plus another five looking imperiously out the window while it percolates, and he can squeeze two more out of it if he adds the sugar one packet at a time.  
  
By the time it’s ready to drink, Havoc and Breda have wandered in mid-argumen (whether women go for blondes or redheads more often) and Roy feels obligated to point out his overwhelming success as a brunette, which carries them through another twelve—make that fourteen, once Fuery wanders in—of companionable verbal tussling.  It’s all ruined when Falman arrives though, as Roy feared it would be.  Each of his subordinates got a copy of the memo as well, and Falman always checks his inbox before he does anything else.  
  
“Sir,” he says, and Roy could be imagining it, but he thinks Falman’s usually flat tone has a hint of panic in it.  “Have you read this memo yet?”  
  
“It’s been a busy morning, I haven’t gotten to it yet.”  
  
“You definitely should read it, sir.”  
  
The bantering mood sufficiently killed, Roy strolls to his desk as the rest of his band of not-so-merry men check their own inboxes.  The outcry is immediate—and horrified.  
  
“This is a joke.  This has to be a joke!”  
  
“This says it’s copied to every ranking soldier at Headquarters!”  
  
“Somebody get Ross on the phone, they’re all buddy buddy these days, she’s got to know—”  
  
“On it!”  
  
Roy lets them scurry, steeling himself as he lifts the memo and glances over the topsheet.   
  
  


  
**_From the desk of Her Excellency Fuhrer Riza Hawkeye_ ** __

Effective immediately, military dress code will undergo the following changes:

All male officers are required to wear tiny miniskirts.

Officers affected by this change must report to be issued their new uniform as soon as possible.  Fuhrer Hawkeye will personally conduct an inspection of all personnel one week from today.  



End file.
